


conversion

by milkshakesandmurders



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AFL / NRL, AFL Captain Jughead, Australian AU, Code Jumping Reggie, Eventual Smut, F/M, One Night Stands, Reggie Mantle is Reggie Hayne, Sports Journalist Betty, Strangers to Lovers, the friendship between Betty and Kevin that we deserve, too many Aussie references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:47:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13820070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkshakesandmurders/pseuds/milkshakesandmurders
Summary: Betty’s life was turned upside down the day Reggie left both her and Australia behind to pursue a sporting career in San Francisco 49ers.Twelve months later Betty commences her new career as a sports journalist with the Sydney Morning Herald. Her first assignment? interviewing the 2018 AFL Premiership Captain of the Sydney Swans, Jughead Jones.Betty’s life has been NRL; AFL is new territory.But in an almost cruel twist of fate; when her eyes land on the man sitting before her, It only takes Betty mere seconds to realise who exactly Jughead Jones is; he is the same man that had her on every conceivable surface in her apartment six nights ago; he is the same man that had Betty flirting with the very real concept of tarnishing what was the Cooper brand, and it’s existence— but when he did that thing with his tongue, the Cooper reputation no longer mattered to Betty. This was now the same man that was the subject of her very first assignment in her very real job— what could possibly go wrong?





	1. Dummy Pass

**Author's Note:**

> *inhale*  
> HERE WE ARE. An idea and a small concept that has been plaguing my overactive mind for a while. I've wanted to do an Australian based Bughead fic for a wee while. I just wasn't sure how to approach it, or what the plot/concept was going to BE. I just knew I wanted to write Aussie Betty, Kevin and Jughead (with a dash of Reggie). 
> 
> One night I casually slipped into @paperlesscrown's ask box, and threw a scenario out there of "Hey, what if Betty has a one night stand with a stranger, starts a new job as a sports journalist, and have it turn out her one night stand is Jughead, ya know, just the 2018 AFL premiership captain?" and well, not only did L go nuts for it.. But, most of Tumbler did? (who would've thought, hey?)
> 
> It kind of steamrolled from there. And, now here we are.  
> The first chapter... I cannot thank @paperlesscrown enough for being an amazing BETA. She threw ideas my way, and of course, they improved the story tenfold!
> 
> Just a few things before you read....  
> I'm changing a few things around-- Reggie (for the sake of the story) isn't Reggie Mantle, he's Reggie Hayne (google Jarryd Hayne, and you'll understand) and I'm not overly familiar with NRL, I have an understanding of AFL, however, I'm not a die-hard supporter, so, things will be tweaked to fit the story.

  
_Dummy pass_ \-- An offensive ruse, where the ball carrier moves as if to pass the ball to a team-mate, but then continues to run with the ball himself; the objective is to trick defenders into marking the would-be pass receiver, creating a gap for the ball carrier to run into.

 

* * *

 

 

**(AFL) Australian rules football** , officially known as Australian football, or simply called Aussie rules, football or footy, is a contact sport played between two teams of eighteen players on an oval-shaped field, often a modified cricket ground. Points are scored by kicking the oval-shaped ball between the opposing goal posts (worth six points) or behind posts (worth one point). The team with the highest score at the end of the match wins unless a draw is declared.

~

**(NRL) Rugby league football**  is a full-contact sport played by two teams of thirteen players on a rectangular field. One of the two codes of rugby, it originated in Northern England in 1895 as a split from the Rugby Football Union over the issue of payments to players. Its rules progressively changed with the aim of producing a faster, more entertaining game for spectators.  In rugby league, points are scored by carrying the ball and touching it to the ground beyond the opposing team's goal line; this is called a  _try_ , and is the primary method of scoring. The opposing team attempts to stop the attacking side scoring points by tackling the player carrying the ball. In addition to tries, points can be scored by kicking goals. After each try, the scoring team gains a free kick to  _try at goal_  with a conversion for further points. Kicks at goal may also be awarded for penalties, and field goals can be attempted at any time.

 

* * *

**12 months earlier.**

 

 

Sitting at her office desk, a small USB operated fan whirring away, Betty was tapping away at her keyboard. She enjoyed her job, she wouldn’t go as far as to say she _loved_ it. But, it was enough for her to pay the bills, and socialise with her friends on a probably too regular basis—  and that _was_ important.  
None the wiser and oblivious to the news that was about to crack her world in two; Betty’s phone started to dance around her desk, glancing over - _Kevin_.

“Kev, hun, I’m neck deep in an expose on the shutdown of  _ALL_ of the Sizzler's restaurants. Can we talk -“

“You haven’t heard, have you?” he prodded.

The next few minutes went by in a blurry haze. Betty’s not sure when she hung up on Kevin, slammed her laptop shut and ran out of the office. She was on the train, doing what she _always_ avoided— checking social media. Clicking on links, and reading Twitter. Her next move was to call him. She _needed_ to call him. But, as she took in her surroundings, she decided she had to get home. Betty wasn’t one for causing a scene in public; especially on the phone.

When the train finally pulled into the station, Betty was already at the door and was on the platform the second it was safe. Inhaling the fresh air, feeling a little disoriented, she found the nearest seat to hold onto and pull herself together.

_It’s not true, Betty, he would’ve told you.. Surely?_

After a few more minutes, and a clear platform, Betty rushed to the carpark. Fumbling with her keys in her handbag, she unlocked the door and climbed in. _Fuck_ , she huffed, slamming the steering wheel, the car finally turning over after a few agonising attempts.

Reversing out of the car spot and leaving the carpark, Betty started the drive home. 

_What are you going to say, Betty?_

_What if he’s actually gone?_

Shaking her head, _no no no_ , she whispered, _it’s not true_. As the apartment block came into view, Betty’s chest tightened. Pulling up to the curb, she grabbed her handbag and climbed out of the car. Hesitating at the top of the driveway, panic starting setting in— there’s _too many_ articles for it to not be true. Gripping the handle of her bag that much tighter, Betty made her way up to the main door of the apartment block.

He was gone.  
All of his things, gone.  
Clothes, CD’s, DVD’s, toiletries.  
Gone. 

**Betty 10:03am  
** Is it true?

Sliding down the front of the wardrobe, phone tightly in hand, she waited. And waited. Scanning the room, Betty was trying to figure out what went wrong, what happened. _They_ were happy? Well, she _thought_ they were happy. _She_ was happy. Things had been _fine_ the night before. She _thought_ things were fine. Could she have been blind? Surely not _that_ blind.  
On shaky legs, Betty stood, still with phone in hand, and made her way over to her bed. Falling back, she stared at the ceiling.

_Maybe if I just close my eyes for a moment, it’ll be just a dream._  

**Reggie 14:38  
** I’m sorry, Betty.

Reading the words _over_ and _over_ and _over_ again, Betty felt her heart splinter into a million pieces. How could he have kept this from her? How long had he been planning this? Not just ‘code jumping’ as her Dad and brother would say, but moving overseas. Not interstate. _Overseas_.

**Reggie 14:55  
** Rent is covered for the next couple of months. All of it. 

**Betty 14:57  
** Ok.

What a thoughtful thing for Reggie to do. Pay their rent for the next two months. So fucking thoughtful. He wasn't officially living with Betty, but he was there often enough he may as well have been. He contributed to her expenses-- groceries, bills and of course, _rent_.

**Betty 15:02  
** Eight months? Did it mean nothing to you?

**Reggie 15:05  
** Betty, don’t. I’ll call you when I land. 

**Betty 15:04  
** Don’t bother. 

Betty proceeded to block and delete his number, as well as all social media platforms. If this is how he wanted to end their relationship, so be it. 

**Betty 16:13  
** Come over when you finish work, please? I have Cheezels, Tim Tams, a bottle of Sav and Corona’s. 

**Kevin 16:15  
** You had me at Cheezels. I’ll come straight after work.

 

Kevin Keller. Her _constant_ , her _comfort_ and her forever best friend. He was someone she could always count on. When Reggie would be interstate for games, and her anxiety was high; a quick text message and he’d be straight over.  Betty loved Kevin to the moon and back. So, the irony of him being the one to break the news to her, was bittersweet.

Needing a shower, Betty dragged her feet to the bathroom. She stepped out of her work clothes and turned the taps on the shower. Waiting for it to heat up, she cracked her fingers— it was a terrible habit and she could feel Alice’s words in the back of her head, _you’ll get arthritis doing that_ , she’d announce over the breakfast table.  
  
Checking the temperature of the shower, and finding the heat acceptable, Betty climbed in and slid down the wall, closing her eyes as the water cascaded down her back.  
Betty knew the _dangers_ of dating a sportsperson. Weekends away, too many nights spent training, the strictest of food and exercise regimes.

Betty had grown up surrounded by all things sports; specifically NRL. When your father is _Hal Cooper_ , three time Premiership Captain of the Parramatta Eels, _NRL Legend_ — sports is simply ingrained. From a young age, Betty watched on as Alice played _the_ perfect WAG. Hal would spend days away from home, especially around the end of the season. She would cook two different dinners— a dinner for herself and the girls, and another for Hal ( _and eventually Chic_ ). 

As Betty grew older, she began to ask questions, “ _Mum, why do you do this?_ ” “ _Mum, are you happy?_ ” “ _Do you miss Dad?_ ”

Her answers varied; “ _I love your father, and he’s doing what he loves, I support him._ ” “ _Of course I’m happy. Why wouldn’t I be? I have a healthy family and a roof over my head!”_ “ _I miss him all the time._ ”

Betty never understood any of her answers, it just seemed _rehearsed_ , like she said it all the time.  
But when Reggie Hayne steamrolled into Betty’s life; all of her mother's rehearsed answers suddenly made _a lot_ of sense.

She remembers the day she brought Reggie home to meet the family. Hal was _giddy_ , Alice was _hesitant_ , Polly _ogled_ and Chic played the role of the overprotective older brother. However, after a few beers and some sports banter, the men were in the lounge room watching the last game Hal had ever played (he always did get emotional watching that).

Brought back to reality by the water turning ice old, Betty stood up and turned the taps off. Welcoming the chill, after the numerous days of thirty plus degree weather. Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped her hair up and tightened the towel around her body. As she tiptoed her way back to her bedroom, she glanced at her phone and noticed the numerous text messages and missed calls from concerned family members; mostly from her father. Deciding to deal with them tomorrow, Betty put the phone on her bedside table and got into her comfortable house clothes; sports bra, singlet and an old pair of footy shorts.  
Loosening the towel that her hair was wrapped in, she reached for a hair tie on her dresser and threw her hair up into a messy bun.

Prepping for the arrival of Kevin, Betty pulled out the unopened box of Cheezels from the pantry, and the Tim Tams from the fridge. Checking that there were still Corona’s in the fridge. 

(Reggie would buy them, drink one, and Kevin would drink the rest— it made sense that there was an unopened six pack there now. He must’ve bought them, stashed them and put them in the fridge after she left that morning.

It was planned. He knew that she’d call Kevin. He knew that booze would be involved.)

Betty sighed. She felt like a fool. She had gone through countless girlfriends, they’d appear on the arm of one of Reggie’s teammates for a couple of months, only to have a new scandal gracing the headlines of yet another newspaper. And they’d suddenly disappear— never heard from again.

But Betty was different. Betty and Reggie were the exception, _right_? She loved him, and he loved her.

As quiet as Betty and Reggie kept their relationship; it’s not like she was a hermit. She’d go to the games, sit with the WAGs and have a good time. The media eventually got bored of trying to harass them, tarnish their relationship. They tried, _oh did they try_. It was after numerous attempts and equal failures; they gave up.

She could imagine the headlines tomorrow—

 

**Who’s aboard the Hayne plane?**

With no doubt a mention of his girlfriend not being on said plane.

 

Betty winced at the thought. She had to prepare. She _needed_ to prepare.  
But first.  
Wine. Betty needed wine, and Kevin. And like a burst of sunshine on a muggy and overcast January afternoon; his trademark knock echoed through the apartment.

 

* * *

 

As the soothing vocals of Vance Joy filled the lounge room, Betty finished her second glass of Sav, and Kevin was downing his third beer, “How are you feeling?” He asked, gently.

Betty sighed, and shrugged, “numb.”  
She hasn’t shed any tears, there were no photos ripped up, no sadness or anger had risen to the surface— she felt confused, betrayed even.

Kevin simply nodded, taking a swig of beer followed by a handful of Cheezels. 

“It’s not like high school, where I can just stay home for a couple of days and drown in ice cream and watch reruns of Heartbreak High - “

“ _Drazic_ ,” Kevin hummed.

“Yes, Kev. Drazic,” Betty rolled her eyes, “But, focus. I still have to go to work, I have my own bills to pay. How the fuck am I supposed to do that when the media is going to be on my ass?” She flopped back onto the couch in a huff.

Kevin placed his beer on a coaster, and turned to face Betty, “if you need me to be your Hamish to your Andy -“

Betty’s hand shot up, “what?”

Kevin shrugged sheepishly, “the vegemite to your cheese? Lano to your Woodley?”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Betty stood up and walked to the kitchen to get the bottle of wine out of the fridge, “I don’t need you to be my vegemite, my Hamish or my Lano,” she hesitated, “I don’t know what I need.” sighing in defeat, head hung between her shoulders.

“ _Okay_ , _Okay_. No more cliche references, I promise. But,” leaning against the counter, Kevin rubbed gently on Betty’s shoulder blades, “Your boyfriend, or ex, _whatever_ he is, has left the country. To pursue bigger and potentially better things, B. That much we know.”

Betty sighed, and nodded in agreement.

“You’re numb now, but we know once the media finds out that you’re still here, and whether he intended on taking you with him or not, he didn’t,” pouring Betty another glass of wine, “and the next few days, I think we know, aren’t going to be easy. Take a few days. Stay home. It’ll hit you. Probably like the heat of a forty degree day, as you exit the coolness and comfort of your office building at five o’clock.”

Kevin was _right_ , he was _blunt_ but always right. 

“What do I _do_ , Kev?” Betty turned around, feeling a sense of defeat wash over in small waves. 

“Just lay low for a while, babes, just lay low. You never know, _New Idea_ may come knocking?” He chuckled at his own joke before taking the final gulps of his beer, “are we going to order pizza or what? I am starvingggg!”

“Domino’s? Double bacon cheeseburger, with BBQ sauce and cheesy crust?” Betty asked, already knowing the answer.

“You know it!” He called out as he skipped his way to the bathroom.

After Betty placed the order, her eyes flicked to the photo of her and Reggie in her wallet. Feeling the corner of her mouth rise ever so slightly, she took the photo out and padded over to the bin. With her foot on the pedal, the lid flung open, _bigger and better things_ , she whispered under her breath.

  


	2. Falcon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are some editing issues (I am doing this on my mobile - apologies for the sections that are non-italics, ugh).

_Falcon— To be hit by the ball in your face or head._

 

* * *

 

_When Betty answered the phone call regarding her recent interview, offering her that job— she was in a state of shock and disbelief._

_Kevin, who was with her at the time, immediately went into revelry mode. “We need to celebrate, Betty! We need to dance to shitty pop music; drink hangover inducing fruity cocktails and forget the world. We need to celebrate! Puh-leaaase!” He looked at her pleadingly._

_Betty had rolled her eyes, and shrugged, “If you’ll stop with the puppy look thing you’ve got going on, fine. We’ll go celebrate. But, nothing huge or over the top, okay?”_ _  
_ _  
__“Pinky Promise!” Kevin stuck his pinky finger out for a good measure, but seemed to be nodding his head a little too enthusiastically for Betty’s liking._ __  
  
When Saturday night eventually rolled around, Betty had looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom. After some heated words had been exchanged, they had agreed on a mid-thigh length leather skirt, a black crop top and some ankle boots (she had at least managed to convince Kevin to ditch the idea of stilettos). As she huffed out an exasperated sigh, Betty had already felt the night being anything but low key.

 

_—_

 

Betty was determined to start the day and end the day with the _Cooper-can-do_ attitude.  
_You can do this, Betty_ , she had quietly said to herself as she locked the front door of her apartment, and made her way down the stairs.  
  
But, now that she was staring at the doors that led to the building of the unknown, Betty was petrified. Everything and everyone was moving around at her light speed, whilst she stood there, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi trailer.  
  
It was only when a man in a suit, who had been far too distracted on his phone collided into her, that she was bought back to reality.  
  
“ _Jesus_ , watch where you’re going!” he snapped.  
  
Betty was taken aback at the sudden confrontation, but realised she wasn’t actually in the wrong,  “Excuse me,” she snapped back, with her (thankfully recently waxed and shaped) eyebrow raised, “but I had as much right to that footpath as you did.” She could tell he wasn’t expecting her to retaliate, Betty smiled politely before adding, “--maybe _you_ should watch _you’re_ going next time?” She gripped her handbag strap just that little bit tighter, and with a sudden burst of confidence, Betty pushed up the stairs and toward the glass doors into the building of the unknown.  
  
Checking that her handbag was still securely on her shoulder, and a quick look behind (just to be sure the asshole in the suit wasn’t following) she made her way to the revolving door into the bustling lobby.  
  
“ _Betty_!”  
  
Betty stopped in her tracks, and her eyes snapped to a very excited looking brunette striding toward her.  
  
“I’m _so_ excited to _finally_ meet you!”  
  
When one would usually assume a handshake would suffice, the overly excited stranger didn’t seem to be on the same page, as Betty was wrapped up in the tightest of hugs, effectively leaving her unable to move.

Once again, she felt like a deer caught in the headlights of yet another oncoming semi trailer.  
  
“ _Ohmygod_ ,” the brunette finally pulled away, “I’m Veronica!” Her hand flying to her chest, “I didn’t even introduce myself, how rude!” Giggling at what Betty assumed she thought was a joke, Veronica continued, letting her know that she was the PA to Betty’s now-boss.  
  
“Here, this is your lanyard with your security fob,” handing her the items, she motioned for Betty to follow her. The two women walked over the large desk where Veronica asked the person behind the desk to take a photo, “For your ID,” she explained. “Security’s tight around here.”  
  
“Of course,” Betty finally replied, turning her attention to the person waiting with the camera. Curving the corner of her lips upward, after a few seconds she heard the click, followed by a very unenthusiastic “ _done_ ,” from the security guard.

  
  
—

 

“ _Kev, this is hardly what I had in mind for tonight,” Betty huffed with a slight hint of irritation in her voice as the line they were in slowly moved forward._ _  
_ _  
__“I know,” Kevin replied, shooting her an enthusiastic smile, and a cheeky wink, “But, if I told you where we were going here. We wouldn’t actually be here!”_ __  
  
(Kevin was either too smart for his own good, OR, Betty was just too predictable.

_It was most likely the latter.)_

_She rolled her eyes, as they finally made it to the front of the queue, when out of nowhere a group of men appeared, laughing and slapping each other on the back, whilst the security guard simply nodded and waved them in._ _  
_ _  
__“Wait,” Betty announced, gaining the attention of one of the men who suddenly turned around, only to have the security guard continue to wave him in, but it wasn’t before Betty felt herself feeling inexplicably drawn to the set of blue eyes staring right back at her. Seeming like he was relatively unperturbed by the interaction, he followed the rest of the group inside. Betty eventually blinked and turned back to the security guard, continuing to interrogate him, “what was that? We’ve been here for almost forty-five minutes, in thirty odd degree weather, and they get waved in?”_ _  
_ _  
__“Ma’am,” the security guard laughed, “you’re next, what’s the problem?”_ __  
  
“Betty,” Kevin grabbed her arm, “it’s okay,” motioning to the entrance of the club.

 _“I don’t understand,” Betty continued, “What’s so great about them?” She didn’t mean to snap, but she was already tired and hot, and they hadn’t even entered the club yet._ _  
_ _  
__Lifting the rope, finally, Kevin shot a quick thank you to the security guard and pulled Betty in._ __  
  
Kevin hadn’t been wrong about the shitty pop music; whatever was playing was a god-damn assault on the senses.

_(Is this really what people listened to these days?_

_Or maybe Betty was just getting too old.)_

_Giving herself a quick shake, Kevin had her hand in his and was pulling her in the direction of the bar. Betty let out an audible grimace at the line, but it was when she caught sight the group of men that had been ushered in just before them she pulled her hand from Kevin’s, “just get me a vodka orange, please,” she requested, and turned away to look over the crowded dance floor._ __  
  
With her attention drawn to the bodies before her moving and almost grinding against each other, Betty realised that this was normal these days; the short skirts, the even shorter tops and the sky-high heels to match. It was only when she felt a knock to her side, which had her dangerously close to falling ass over tit that she felt both a firm grasp on her arm and the same set of piercing blue eyes from earlier.

_“Shit, I am sorry,” He spluttered, seemingly caught off-guard with the incident, “I wasn’t watching where I was going. And, this place is so dark and so loud, I can’t see shit. Or maybe this is normal and I’m just out of my depth.”_

_Betty shrugged, “it is quite dark, and pretty loud,” she replied. She looked over her shoulder to spot Kevin making his way over to her with drinks in tow._

_“Okay, well, ummm, have a good one.” He responded as he was being pulled away by his friends, but not before turning around to shoot her a quick smile and a shrug._ _  
_ _  
__“What was that?” Kevin asked, just as he was handing Betty her drink._ __  
  
“Nothing, it was nothing.” She mumbled, “nothing at all.”

  
  
—

 

By the time Veronica showed her around the office and did the usual introductions, it was already lunch-time and Betty was both losing interest in all the first-day formalities, and was starving.  
  
“If you didn’t bring lunch, there’s a cafe downstairs, you can grab something to eat and a coffee,” Veronica suggests, “and we can meet back here in forty-five minutes. Then, we can formally introduce you to our boss, and you can find out what your first assignment is!”  
  
“Okay, great”, Betty chirped, “See you in forty-five minutes.”

Betty wasn’t one to chirp very often, but when she knows food is on the horizon, she can’t help it. She turned on her heel and headed toward the lift, pressing the ground floor button.  
  
After ordering a chicken salad sandwich and a soy latte, Betty sat outside on a bench under a large tree. This summer had been nothing if unforgiving and unrelenting with continued days of thirty plus degrees; she isn’t really used to being in such an air-conditioned environment, so she was thankful for the fresh air.  
  
Realising she still has at least another twenty minutes before she needs to head back upstairs, she reaches into her handbag to retrieve her phone.  
  
It rings just twice before the ever so familiar sing-song voice of Kevin bursts through her ears, “Bettyyyy! My love, how are you and how’s your first day as a Sports Journalist?”  
  
“Hah hah, Kevin. It’s fine. I haven’t done too much yet. Just the usual first day stuff. But, I do get to find out what my first assignment is this afternoon. So, that’s kinda cool.”  
  
“Oh!” Kevin gasped through the phone. “Already?”  
  
“Best get the ball rolling, I suppose.”  
  
“‘ _Get the ball rolling_ ,’ ohmygod, are you making sports puns already, Coop?” Kevin asks, chuckling through the phone, “you know I love puns, especially when it’s to do with sports and ba - “  
  
“Ooookay,” Betty interrupts, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m going to finish my sandwich, and I’ll call you tonight.”  
  
With the minutes dwindling down, Betty packed up her rubbish and took the last couple of gulps of her coffee. She located a bin on the way to dispose of her lunch, before making the trek up the stairs and pushing through the not-so-scary-but-more-over-the-top glass doors for the second time that day.  
  
Taking note of the large group of people also waiting for the lifts, Betty made a quick mental note to ask Veronica when the popular lunch time break is. At least, if she knows _that_ time, she’ll know to avoid it in future.

Finally, after more than ten minutes, she managed to squeeze into a packed lift. After having to manoeuvre her way out of the lift several times to allow people to exit, Betty exhaled a sigh of relief as the bell chimed at her floor. Stepping out, Betty took a few seconds to establish her location and remember which direction she needed to go to get to her designated workstation.

But, thankfully, a few seconds later, the familiar clicking of heels on tiles and “Betty!” comes from behind her, “how was lunch?” Veronica asked, seeming like she was genuinely interested.

“Yeah, it was nice to get some fresh air,” Betty answers, “I’m not used to being in such an air-conditioned environment, my last job didn’t so much believe in air-conditioning.”  
  
Veronica let out an audible gasp. “ _Seriously_? Is that even legal? It gets so hot!”  
  
Betty laughed. “Yes, yes it does.”  
  
“Okay, let’s drop your things off at your desk, and go meet your boss!” Veronica exclaimed with excitement.  
  
Betty couldn’t help but wonder if Veronica was always this excited. Surely her cheeks must hurt from smiling as much as she did. It was actually exhausting trying to keep up. Maybe it was just first day guardedness, but if this is what Veronica was going to be like every day, Betty decided she would need both more sleep, and a lot more caffeine.

 

—

  
  
_She should’ve known this would happen. It had been mere weeks since Kevin’s latest fling had ended, and here he was grinding up against some new thing he had found._ _  
__He kept saying, “it’s okay, Betty, I’m here to celebrate with you!” as his eyes darted toward the man biting his lip._ _  
_ _  
__“Just go, Kev. I’m good here.” Betty knew that even if she did say, ‘no, stay with me’, he wouldn’t be fully committed to the cause._ _  
__And honestly, it was fine. Over the last twelve months, Kevin had done more than enough for her. Making sure she was eating, drinking (mostly water, but the occasional glass of wine) and just generally looking both after her and out for her. He had really gone above and beyond._ __  
  
As Betty sat on the bar stool at a free table, looking down at the dancefloor, she hummed along to the tune coming from the DJ below. She didn’t know the song, but it was familiar. Although, it seems like all of the songs that had played were exactly the same.

_As she took another sip of her drink, the air around her felt thick and heavy. Immediately, she turned around and he was there, at the bar, eyes trained to her. When she should’ve felt worried or scared; she wasn’t. There was something about him. Something that told her she’d be safe._

_Betty suddenly thought to herself, ‘I’m going to need more vodka,’ as she brought the glass back to her mouth and slammed the remaining liquid to the back of her throat._

_Feeling his presence getting closer, swallowing any nerves that had crept from the pit of her stomach and lodged themselves in her throat, Betty turned slowly to meet his intense gaze, “Orange and vodka, please,” she announced, quickly snapping her eyes back to the dancefloor below before he could say anything._ __  
  
‘Okay,’ was all she heard before the air around her suddenly calmed. Inhaling through her nose, and exhaling through her mouth, Betty told herself to relax—she was overreacting. This was just a man that was out with his friends on a Saturday night. But this was also the first man since Reggie that she’s felt drawn to. They’ve shared minimal words, but there’s something about him that has piqued her interest.

 _  
__But, if Alice Cooper had taught her anything, ‘keep your guard up, Elizabeth, always’._ _  
__Pursing her lips, and laying her palms flat on the table, Betty took a moment to collect herself._ _  
_ _  
__“Orange and vodka, as requested,” the clink of the glass landing on the table brought her back to the present, “you okay?” the man in the crown shaped beanie asked._ __  
  
“I’m fine,” she huffed, noticing that he really was in fact, wearing a beanie, “How come you’re wearing a beanie in a club, and in the middle of summer?” Betty quizzed, bringing the straw to her lips.

 _Who the fuck was this person? He gets let into a club on a bustling Saturday night, whilst wearing a beanie._ _  
_ _  
__He shrugged, “I like my beanie,’ his response, simple, and maybe rehearsed, “so, I’m Forsythe, and you are? “_ _  
_ _  
__Betty looks up and meets his gaze, “Elizabeth, my name’s Elizabeth. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Forsythe.”_

 

—

 

  
As the two of them exchanged small chitchat, Veronica nodded toward the large door, and proceeded to knock twice. It was a few more minutes later, and Veronica opened the door. Betty continued to wait patiently just outside, until she was given the all clear to enter.  
  
“Ah, Betty. I’m Antoinette Topaz, but please, call me Toni, I only get called Antoinette when I’m in trouble. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, Toni, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Betty was hoping her smile wouldn’t portray the nerves that were bubbling away in the very pit of her stomach as she went to stick her hand out to shake Toni’s hand, only to be thankful that she had moved to sit down. 

(Her hands were both clammy and sweaty.)

“I assume Veronica has been accommodating to your first day needs?”

Betty nodded. “She certainly has.”  
  
“Veronica is the best at what she does, although, she will likely deny that until the day she dies,” moving to the side to allow Betty to sit in the seat at the large desk before her, “Anyway, it’s time for your first assignment.”  
  
Veronica cleared her throat, before excusing herself from the room.  
  
“I’m going to get right down to business, Betty. Your first assignment has been brought forward, timewise, significantly. It wasn’t meant to start until next Monday, but it would appear that there’s been some fuck-up of communication between our people and their people.”  
  
“Uh, okay.” Betty was less nervous now, and slightly confused.  
  
“I need you to start this afternoon,” Toni looked at her watch, “Well, probably a few hours ago to be precise, I’ve let them know that today is just more of a meet and greet. The real work, however, will start next week. Obviously, in an ideal fucking situation, I’m all about research, research, and more goddamn research, but we don’t have that luxury at the moment. It’ll happen during the week.”  
  
Toni stood, to which Betty followed. “There’s a car downstairs for you, Veronica has the keys. There’s also a GPS, because, driving in the City is a bitch. Head on over to headquarters of the Sydney Swans, introduce yourself, they’ve been briefed. They know who you are, and they’re expecting you.”  
  
Betty panicked, “Sydney Swans? As in AFL?”  
  
Toni grinned, “Hence, the research. As I said, meet and greet, small chit chat, off the record or on the record, totally up to you. Good luck, and I’ll schedule in a debriefing tomorrow morning.”

After Veronica had given the keys to Betty, she gave her some words of encouragement and passed on her contact details if anything happened whilst she was out of the office.  
As Betty programmed the address into the GPS, it turned out to be only a twenty-minute drive from the office. Betty didn’t know a whole lot about AFL, but Toni seemed to understand that and potentially the reasons behind giving her free reign, at least for this afternoon—and plus, Betty knew how to fake it.  
  
Pulling into the carpark, she gathered what she needed before making her way up the front doors. The receptionist knew who she was, and was expecting her, “Jughead is already waiting for you. I apologise for the miscommunication.” She quickly guided Betty toward the back and downstairs to what looked to be a training ground with a small grandstand where apparently someone by the name of Jughead, her very first assignment, in her very real job was waiting for her.  
  
Betty thanked the receptionist, and walked down some stairs to sit in the row behind, “Thank you so much for taking the time out of your, no doubt, busy day, Jug – “

As soon as her eyes met his, Betty immediately felt all the colour drain from her face. It only took seconds for Betty to recognise those blue eyes, and those raven curls; with her mind drifting to that Saturday night, with her bent over the small kitchen table in her apartment, to her legs wrapped around his waist under the steady stream of hot water in her shower and to him between her legs with her back up against the wall in the hallway.  
  
“ _Forsythe_?” her voice cracked, barely a whisper.  
  
“Elizabeth.” He answered, noticeably shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (pssst, hello... hi... this has been a while in the making.. biggest of thank you’s to my fellow Kookabughead, @paperlesscrown for her wonderful eyes.)
> 
> enjoy, and please, drop a comment. X

**Author's Note:**

> *exhale*
> 
> First off; Jughead is coming up-- I swear it.  
> Let me know your thoughts; leave me a comment. Rush on over to my ask box on Tumblr (@smoochmejuggie) - ask me anything (particularly if you're unsure of any Aussie slang)!


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